Anti-God Complex
by Hoofikins
Summary: Honestly, all some people need is a good kick to the face to sort out all of those silly delusions about 'ruling the world' and 'dating my sister'. OC/Twin!Fic.


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" _The beginning is the most important part of the work." -_ _Plato_

" _Do I look like someone who cares what God thinks?"_ _– Hellraiser._

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There are few things as frustrating in life as being ignored when you have something very important to say. Fewer still than when you have something important to say in a _very_ dangerous situation.

Such was the case of Batya Fray as he watched the shadowy, snake-like creature slither closer to the crib he usually shared with his twin sister. Batya was suddenly, incredibly grateful for the small mercy of Clary being strapped into the baby carrier asleep in the living room and away from the literal monster stalking its way towards him.

"Shh, _shh_ baby, what's the problem?" his babysitter cooed, completely unaware, stroking his chubby cheek with a strained grin. He'd been fussing since he'd first seen the _thing_ pull its way through the open nursery window and she was visibly losing patience with what she saw as a pointless tantrum.

Batya shrieked again and pointed indignantly at the creature that was now winding its way around the legs of the crib, smoky body fading in and out of sight like a mirage… a really ugly, menacing mirage.

The babysitter looked in the direction he was pointing with put-upon patience and then turned back to him with incomprehension in her eyes. She looked like a doll, a stupid, vapid doll that was going to get him _killed_.

Ugh. He wished he could remember her name, she looked like a Betty… or maybe a Sharon? Linda?

He needed to start paying more attention…

Batya gave the crib bar behind him a tug and groaned internally when it didn't so much as budge.

And this, Batya thought with dull resignation, was why child locks on cribs where a bad idea.

The creature beneath the crib gave a shaky, sibilant hiss, a sound not unlike laughter, as Batya tried to corral l his mouth into shaping legible words.

"Get me out." He warbled.

It sounded more like 'Geh muh ow' than he liked to admit.

"Give out? No baby, I'm not giving out, just tell me what's wrong." The babysitter soothed, wrongly interpreting his words as worry about upsetting her with his tantrum. Batya tried to slap his forehead in irritation and wondered if it was acceptable for a six-month-old child to claim tension headaches.

"Huh, what is it sweetheart? Are you hungry?" the babysitter asked with a pretend frown, clucking him under the chin just as the creature slid its head over the lip of the crib, twin dull purple tongues flicking out to taste the air.

"No, get me _out_ of this death trap." He hissed, sounding a lot like the creature slowly winding the rest of its body up the side of the crib. The girl gave a hopeless shrug in response, her flapping hands actually swiping through the smoke-skin of the creature, causing it to dissipate and then reform.

It gave a low, angry hiss that raised all the hairs on the back of Batya's neck and he scrambled over to the opposite side of the crib. The creature smelled awful, like rotten meat and wet dirt, he could see now the thin flim of grey slime it was leaving behind on the edge of his crib as it slithered over.

The babysitter stared straight through it without so much as a blink.

"Okay, sweetie, I'm going to get some milk heated up. You just sit tight!" she told him with a bright, forced smile and he shrieked in displeasure.

"Ooh no you are _not_ leaving me here with that thing!" he yelled, hearing the words leave his lips as unintelligible babble and feeling a stone settle low and cold in his stomach as she gave him one last smile that she probably intended to be comforting and then turned and hurried out of the room.

Batya made a mental promise to haunt the fuck out of her after he died.

The creature gave another low, shaky hiss as Batya tried to awaken his inner terminator and phase through the bars of the crib.

If he was being honest, the idea of dying six scarce months into this nightmare didn't appeal to him in the slightest. When he'd first woken up in this world, bleary baby eyes adjusting to the sight of a beautiful red haired woman with sad eyes leaning over his body, he'd been really, _really_ fucking confused.

When he found out her name was Jocelyn Fray and that the sleep-warm body snuggled up next to him was his apparent twin sister Clarissa he'd quickly left 'confused' behind and barrelled straight on to 'horrified'.

Six months later, he was…he was adjusting.

And now he was going to die.

The creature, demon, monster _whatever_ was now almost entirely in the crib with him, it was roughly the side of a large cat but elongated seemingly at will to fill up the blanketed space. Batya gave a full body shudder as it coiled around him, leaving more of that ashy slime on his exposed skin that burned on contact.

He… yeah, wow he was going to die here. Jocelyn was out, babysitter was blind and the only other person in the house who could even _see_ the creature tightening its hold on his limbs was his six-month-old sister who was currently fast asleep in the room next door.

Batya felt his breath coming in fast, carrying the creature's awful stink down into his lungs and making him twist his face away as best he could.

The sharp tongues slid up his cheek as though to taste him as the creature reared back, shadows flaring around its neck like a ruff, before darting in with an open maw filled with flickering teeth-

-and then it reared back with a screech, a pale purple blade sticking of its rapidly flickering chest, smoke coalescing back into the smaller, cat-sized form as the creature thrashed for a few moments before turning iridescent with red light and then exploding outward into dust.

Batya stared, chest heaving, at the fine dust now coating his slime coated onesie and flexed his chubby hands, feeling the gritty texture rub between his fingers.

That… _what_?

He whipped his head up to see an unfamiliar woman standing over his crib, arms out and holding a short purple knife that pulsed with pale light before dulling back into a normal blade. The woman rapidly checked the rest of the room, dark hair whipping behind her as she moved with almost inhuman speed to slam the window closed and then darted back to his side just in time for babysitter to stumble into the nursery.

"H-hey! You can't just barge in here. Who are you? What are y- oh my god is that a knife?" babysitter babbled, looking horrified between Batya and his knife-wielding saviour.

The unfamiliar woman let out a low groan of irritation before flicking out a wrist that glowed with that same purple light. Babysitter looked momentarily freaked out before her eyes glowed purple and then rolled back in her head and she collapsed onto the floor with a dull thud.

Batya watched her prone form with a mild stirring of concern before turning back to the unfamiliar woman who was now running an agitated hand through her hair, looking around the nursery like something else might jump out at her.

"Um, can you let me out?" Batya asked as coherently as he was able with a pointed raising of his arms. He bit back a wince as the slime residue left on his skin began to sting more with the movement. The woman flinched gently, as though she hadn't been expecting him to talk and then cursed when she saw the grey ooze.

"Damn it! Okay, okay come here baby." She muttered, obligingly lifting Batya from the crib but keeping him at arm's length. He was super grateful to be out of that death trap but also kind of offended at the face she made at the sight of his demon dust covered face.

"Shh baby, good baby, Aunty Dot will get you all cleaned up." She sing-songed with no small amount of panic as she quick walked out the door, pausing to delicately step over babysitter's unconscious body, and into the adjacent bathroom.

The woman, Dot apparently, just placed him full-on in the sink and Batya was honestly feeling less and less impressed with his saviour as time went on.

Don't get him wrong, he was still processing the overwhelming relief he felt over not being dead, but there was now a faucet digging into his delicate baby spine and his butt was slowly sliding across the porcelain which dug the faucet in even harder…

He was 100% going to bruise, is what he's saying.

Dot was filling the bath with a mixture of hot and cold water and chanting something under her breath that, upon closer listening, was less of an arcane spell and more of a 'Oh fuck, oh wow, oh please let this work' kind of thing.

Which, again, didn't exactly fill Batya with confidence.

He picked idly at the buttons to the onesie that he could reach in a half-hearted attempt to open them, the slime had sunk down through the fabric and was now burning the skin beneath which, yeah, was not fun.

He felt strangely dizzy too, which made it difficult to concentrate on what he was doing as his clumsy, chubby fingers kept sliding off the buttons without really doing anything to help.

He managed to get two undone in the end but the rest of the buttons went under his butt and then up his back and there was no way he was going to be able to reach them without a minor miracle.

Dot eventually looked up, though honestly it could only have been a few seconds, and saw him struggling with his onesie. She made a complicated expression with her face, twitching between confusion and concern before she stood and began to help him de-onesie himself.

"Smart baby, huh." She said, conversationally, and Batya hummed in agreement. By the standards of six-month-old children everywhere he was a fucking genius.

Now free of the onesie, his nappy and his dignity, Batya found himself lifted once more and then placed down in about three inches of luke-warm water. He let out a hiss of discomfort as the warm water sloshed against his burning skin but as absently shushed by Dot who was now swiping up handfuls of the water to sluice off the demon dust from his body.

Batya wriggled uncomfortably, it really hurt, but otherwise did nothing but watch as, slowly but surely, Dot removed all the slime and residue from his skin. She then carefully dunked his head and began to clear away whatever had settled onto his face and hair after she exploded the creature.

That… that was actually _way_ worse. Batya fought back manly shrieks as the water burned his eyelids and his scalp and Dot cursed as tainted water drizzled into his open mouth.

"Shit, spit that out. Bad baby! Bad baby, _spit it out_!" she hissed pulling his mouth open and shoving him forwards to try and drain the water from his mouth. Batya choked on the ashy liquid, feeling tears prick behind his eyes as some of it went down the wrong pipe and he began to cough.

"That's it, spit it all up, come on! Good baby!" Dot praised, massaging his back as he spluttered and hacked into the bath water. Batya glared up at her with damp, angry eyes which she completely ignored in favour of running the bath tap and pulling the plug to rinse out the nasty water.

The whole cleaning process was completed two more times before she seemed happy that there wasn't any residue left and Batya's skin was rubbed raw.

Dot dried him off briskly, seemingly unconcerned with how quiet and obliging he was being, and then re-dressed him in a soft fuzzy two-piece pyjama set.

Batya looked down at the pastel unicorn design on his chest and sighed - Clary's pyjamas.

She also forgot to put on a new nappy which was… it was fine because Batya could mostly control his bowels now after six months but it might get awkward later with his limited vocabulary and inability to use the adult toilet on his own.

Dot literally just put him down on the floor next to Clary's carrier. Like, flat out on the floor with the scratchy apartment carpet that Jocelyn hadn't pulled up yet digging into his cheek. Batya gurgled irritable and managed to half prop himself up against the carrier to get a good look at his sister while Dot went off in search of a house phone.

Which didn't exist but Batya wasn't really in the mood to tell her. They'd only moved in about two months ago and Jocelyn, like, didn't have friends so trying to install a landline was the least of her worries.

But whatever, Dot was welcome to run about like a crazy person if she wanted, Batya was more concerned with the slowly waking Clary.

She scrunched her nose up adorably, her brow furrowing as a big yawn stretched her mouth out, releasing one of the short copper curls that she'd been chewing on in her sleep.

It was so weird to think about all the things that would happen to her in the future. To them. It was so weird to think about shadowhunters and evil dads and all that bullshit that their teenage years had in store for them when Clary still couldn't walk or talk or feed herself.

Which is what made the last hour so crazy surreal. _Actual_ demons, _actual_ magic… his head was still spinning and he honestly just wanted Jocelyn to come home and soothe his nerves with her own special brand of blunt practicality.

Nothing quite said 'safety' like a woman with nerves of steel and a set of sharpened kitchen knives to match.

Dot came back from her pointless quest for a phone to see Batya trying to entertain Clary by making faces over her carrier. She exhaled loudly and briskly ruffled her hair, seeming to deflate from whatever frantic energy that had driven her earlier. Batya eyed her curiously.

He'd just kind of taken her help at face value because between her and the smoke demon thing she was clearly the lesser of two evils. But now, with her in the same room as Clary and with that knife slid into a holster at her side and those dark eyes flitting between him and his sister, Batya felt a stirring of unease.

"Who're you?" he asked, managing to babble out a lisping 'whar ooh' that he felt was respectively coherent. Dot blinked, nonplussed for a moment, before shaking her head and crossing the room to slump on the sofa next to where he was lying.

She was quiet for a moment before she sighed and straightened up.

"You're a weird baby." Dot said, matter of fact, as she rested her elbows on her knees and regarded him with narrowed eyes.

"Rude." He muttered, blowing a raspberry up at her, and she wrinkled her nose in apparent disgust.

"I'm not a big baby person but this one-" and here she leaned down to trip black-painted fingers along Clary's cheek "-this one is kind of cute."

As though to cement her status as the 'Cute Twin' Clary yawned again and snuggled herself down into her blanket, big doe eyes closing back over now that all the commotion had stopped.

Batya frowned sharply at the sight of Dot's hand that close to Clary's face and reached out with a slow, clumsy arm to knock her hand away.

"No." he said, as sternly as he could. 'No' was one of the few words he could reliably pronounce and he was rather proud of how strongly he'd gotten that one out. Dot retracted her hand with a raised eyebrow and flicked a finger in his direction.

"You're not as cute." She told him and Batya wondered if he could pass off flipping her the finger as a mild spasm.

"Whatever, hag." He muttered and Dot narrowed her eyes at him, certain she'd been insulted but unable to make out the actual words from his garbling.

She flicked him gently on the forehead .

"Watch your mouth!" she reprimanded and Batya made a complicated eyebrow gesture that he hoped conveyed just how little he cared about watching his non-existent language skills around someone who he was now reasonably sure was a warlock.

"Mama?" he tried. Jocelyn was his saving grace in this crapsack world and the sooner she got home the better.

"What? Mar… oh ' _mama'_? Ew, no I am _not_ your mama!" Dot said, sounding more repulsed than Batya was okay with.

Though his own matching expression of horror probably wasn't all that flattering either.

"No! _My_ mama!" he reiterated as slowly as he could and Dot gave him an unimpressed look but seemed to understand.

"Oh, _Jocelyn_? She'll be back eventually." She said "Man, human babies are weird… do you guys have any food in here?"

Batya shrugged from his position on the floor. He literally lived off a mix of awkwardly fed breast-milk and baby formula for when Jocelyn was too busy or stressed to breast feed. The fridge was a mystery to him and Jocelyn seemed to survive soley on a diet of avocados and push-ups.

Dot eyed him weirdly before sighing and stooping down to pick him up off the floor and settle him awkwardly against her chest.

"Okay baby, let's go see if mama's left me any frozen pizza, hm?" she said with false cheer as she stalked back through the house.

There wasn't any pizza though there was, surprise surprise, a handful of avocados which Dot was apparently allergic to.

So she scoured the cupboards with Batya slung across her chest like a doll and eventually came up with half a bag of rigatoni pasta, a can of tomatoes and a half-empty bottle of red wine.

"Score!" Dot hissed, switching arms to heft both the wine and Batya at the same time.

"Okay, I'm not saying we're getting day drunk but Jocelyn owes me at least a glass of wine after all this shit." Dot muttered, uncorking the bottle and pouring herself a generous glass.

She puttered about putting water on to boil for the pasta, adjusting Batya to idly sip from her wine as she did so.

The window outside showed that it was nearing the late afternoon with the sun beginning to dip behind the clouds and Batya couldn't quite hold back a yawn.

Since waking up as a baby it was literally all he could do to keep from falling asleep after so much as a half hour of minor activity. It was incredibly disconcerting though he was slowly getting used to it. But that didn't mean that he wanted to fall asleep around Dot with Clary completely unaware in the next room and Jocelyn AWOL for god knows how long.

He didn't really have much of a choice however. As Dot's gentle rocking and his own biology lulled him off to a restless sleep.

* * *

Batya awoke to the feeling of Clary pressed up against his side and the sound of Jocelyn and Dot talking in hushed whispers above his cot. He blinked blearily as his eyes adjusted to a very unfamiliar ceiling. This was not his room.

Jocelyn, pale faced and agitated, sensed him awaken through some kind of crazy mother-telepathy and leaned over the crib. Calloused fingers ran over his face as her eyes bored into his, like she was looking for something.

That happened a _lot_ with Jocelyn so Batya wasn't too concerned. It was probably some hold-over from having one child turn out to be a demon baby and now suddenly being in possession of another freakishly quiet and intelligent kid.

So he let her look, yawned a little in an attempt to replicate Clary's earlier cuteness and snuggled his face into her hands. Jocelyn's expression softened marginally and she gave him one last pet before straightening and returning to her conversation with Dot.

"It's not that I'm not grateful but-"

"But what? You can't go back there and this apartment building is warded. Look-" Dot interrupted only to have Jocelyn cut back in with a frown.

"No, I understand I just… it's been well over a year with nothing happening and I let my guard down. That can't happen again!" she sounded really upset, one arm wrapped comfortingly around her waist,

Dot made a complicated expression with her face that was probably supposed to convey sympathy but fell just short of the mark.

"I know it's hard but you have more than just yourself to think about." she said, gesturing to where Batya and Clary sat swaddled in the crib beneath them.

"What if I hadn't been there today? You asked for my help and I can't in good conscience-" Dot continued before Jocelyn cut her off with a frustrated slash of her hand.

"I _know_ that! Dot I _know_! Do you not think I've been driving myself crazy thinking what could have… what almost..." Jocelyn honestly looked like she was going to throw up and Batya earnestly hoped she'd have the wherewithal to not puke in his crib.

One impromptu shower was enough for him, thanks.

She visibly gathered her composure, swallowed loudly and looked back down at the crib, hands reaching out to cup both his and Clary's heads.

She stared at the two of them for what felt like a small eternity as Batya tried to look like a nice, unassuming normal baby. Clary snored next to him which he liked to think fortified their combined status as 'not evil'.

Jocelyn pressed her lips together and looked like she was going to cry for a second before she steeled herself again and nodded.

"No… _no_ , Dot you're right. I'll take the apartment." she said, not looking away from their small faces.

Dot snorted, immediately lightening the atmosphere.

"Can I get that in writing?" she asked with a small grin pulling up the edges of her mouth. "The great Jocelyn Fairchild, finally admitting I've been right all along about everything."

Jocelyn finally looked away from Batya and Clary to give Dot a raised eyebrow.

"Hardly, Little Miss 'I'll just portal myself into a fireplace'-"

"I was drunk! And will you ever let that go!"

"Never." Jocelyn said smugly, dancing away with a short laugh as Dot swiped irritably at her.

"Slowpoke~" she sang.

"I think I prefered you moping." Dot said with a roll of her eyes before she gave Jocelyn a lopsided smile. "I'm on the bottom floor, I've been thinking of turning my place into a bit of an antique store. I've got too much junk and Agnes swears by selling off the surplus."

"Agnes Greenthorn? I though she died..." and then Joeclyn and Dot were moving out of the room and out of earshot. Batya sighed as explosively as his baby lungs would allow and settled himself a little more comfortably into the cot.

He officially had no idea what was going on or what was happening. Judging by the strange ceiling and that conversation Jocelyn had relcutantly moved them to a new appartment. Which Batya was kind of grateful for, if he was honest, he couldn't imagine sleeping peacefully in the nursery where he'd almost been eaten by a demon snake.

But despite the welcome change of scenery he couldn't help but feel a frisson of unease. He'd read the story of Clary and her demon slaying ways to his nieces in a different world. He'd read the story a _lot_. But he'd been a busy boy back then and not a whole lot of the plot really stuck in his head. He remembered the bare bones: angel-people who fight demons, evil magical Hitler father and some incestuous romantic subplots.

But Batya couldn't for the life of him place much of _that_ in chronological order, the books had been an easy read but packed full enough of random lore that he was definitely forgetting whole chunks of important information.

He was definitely going to be winging this entire thing and given that the world was what was at stake… yeah no pressure.

Batya tried to suffocate himself in Clary's chubby baby arm out of sheer frustration. Thank _god_ he had years until any of this nonsense started to effect him.

* * *

 **A/N:**

I'm in _love_ with the Shadowhunters TV show so I wanted to try my hand at writing a bit of a Twin!Fic because those are my very, _very_ guilty pleasure~  
Batya is a bit of an experiment into how much I can delve into a background of a series and flesh out little characters and plot points into something bigger. I will be tweaking bits and pieces of cannon but please keep in mind this is the TV-Verse, not the books or the Movies, so expect some discrepancies.

Anyway, I really hope y'all enjoyed that first lil' sneak peak. Feel 100% to drop a line if you enjoyed it and even more so if you didn't. Constructive criticism is always welcome.


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